Luscious Lemon Pie for National Pie Day

At the end of a winding road through a cul-de-sac in Columbus, Ohio, lived my maternal grandparents, Lillian and Marty. They were always there when we pulled up, smiling through the screened door.

My grandmother was always cooking. I don’t think I ever saw her without her apron on. I remember her mostly from behind; skinny legs protruding from sweat pants, stirring something delicious smelling in an enormous metal pot. They had raised my mother on gefilte fish, chicken paprikash, and boiled cow tongue; recipes passed down from the generations that came before them. Though she was born and raised in Columbus, she had a knack for cooking traditional Eastern European food so authentic you’d think you were dining in the shtetl.

thinkstock

The home she lived in with my grandfather, smelled perpetually of brisket and other stewing meats. Chopped liver was a fixture at the table; it sat in a glass bowl as casually as salt. Her meals began with chicken soup and culminated in mountains of homemade mandlebrot. I was resolute in my distaste of her plat du jours, like roasted chicken and slow cooked meats, but I held tight, pushing food around with a fork in case her famous lemon meringue pie might make an appearance. The truth was, I loved her foods but I didn’t like them. By 15, I was a hard fast vegetarian who preferred kale to kreplach. But I was so endeared by her commitment to her meals; she lived to please us and feeding us was the best way she knew how.

On Shabbat, she always served brisket. The chewy meat dripping in juices would sit untouched on my plate. I would pick at the mushy carrots, watching them drown in a sea of brown liquid. As much as I looked forward to seeing my grandparents, I dreaded those meals. On some level I understood that those foods symbolized something historical, something cultural. With each bite of meatloaf or kugel or kreplach, I was digesting a legacy my ancestors had left behind. It was my own DNA and sweat and tears that gone into the water that boiled on my grandmother’s stove, but I was somehow not genetically disposed to liking those foods.

Desserts were different. Pastry was my grandmother’s true talent, and my happy consumption of her classic Jewish treats was my path back to my culinary heritage. We would get up from the dining table and crowd around a smaller table where she already arranged the dessert course. There would be piles of rugelach, layers of mondelbrot and my favorite, lemon pie. My grandmother’s lemon pie is legendary in my own mind. Eating it was something of a tasting roulette; depending on the bite, the flavor would either be decadently sweet or bracingly sour. When it was sour, it tasted of real lemons. The acid in my mouth would water and my lips puckered. But then, as if you were being rewarded for the previous bite, would come a creamy layer of lemon curd. Heaven.

When I think of my grandparents now, I remember the pussy willows that were always in a vase by the door. I remember the pond my grandfather and I would walk to and look for frogs. I remember the wallpaper that was flecked with gold paint in the upstairs bathroom, but mostly I remember that pie. Sometimes sour, sometimes sweet.

To Make Lemon Filling: In a heavy bottom saucepan, whisk together 1 cup sugar, flour, cornstarch, and salt. Stir in water, lemon juice and lemon zest. Turn on heat to medium-high and cook, stirring frequently, until mixture comes to a boil. Remove the saucepan from heat and stir in butter.

Place egg yolks in a small bowl and gradually whisk in 1/2 cup of hot sugar mixture. Whisk egg yolk mixture back into remaining sugar mixture. Place the saucepan back on the burner and slowly bring to a boil and continue to cook while stirring constantly until thick. Remove from heat. Pour filling into baked pastry shell.

To Make Meringue: In a large glass or metal bowl, whip egg whites until foamy. Add sugar gradually, and continue to whip until stiff peaks form. Spread meringue gently over pie, sealing the edges at the crust.

Place in heated oven for 10 minutes, or until meringue is golden brown.

Top Stories

The Jewish Daily Forward welcomes reader comments in order to promote thoughtful discussion on issues of importance to the Jewish community. In the interest of maintaining a civil forum, The Jewish Daily Forwardrequires that all commenters be appropriately respectful toward our writers, other commenters and the subjects of the articles. Vigorous debate and reasoned critique are welcome; name-calling and personal invective are not. While we generally do not seek to edit or actively moderate comments, our spam filter prevents most links and certain key words from being posted and The Jewish Daily Forward reserves the right to remove comments for any reason.

AIPAC is kicking off its conference under a cloud of controversy over Benjamin Netanyahu's planned speech.
As the meeting starts this morning, a fresh dispute raged over Shmuley Boteach's nasty attack ad aimed at White House security chief Susan Rice.

Of Rosanne Barr, King David Kalakaua and 9 other things about Jewish Hawaii

Yum. Deli Man is a mouthwatering journey to Jewish delis across the country, from New York to Houston - our review.

The #Missouri politician who committed suicide amid rumors that he was Jewish received at least $200,000 in political contributions in the past two years from a leading Jewish Republican donor.

Irving Kahn, the Jewish money manager who has died at the age of 109, exemplified a work ethic which stressed ever-fresh intellectual interests as a way to remain young in spirit.
We recall his legacy.

Chocolate-nutella halvah hamantaschen? This fudge and rich #Purim cookie is as delicious as it sounds.

The Forward occasionally sends promotional e-mails to our subscribers on behalf of selected sponsors, whose advertising supports our independent journalism. We hope you will look at their messages and find their offers interesting to you, but if you would like to opt out of receiving them, please uncheck this box.